A Potteriffic AU
by Anyelse
Summary: (Big Four) First Year, The Hogwarts Express - 'To say that Rapunzel Corona was simultaneously excited and terrified of traveling to Hogwarts would have been the understatement of the year. She crossed off the days on the calendar with an almost religious obsession.'
1. Diagon Alley

**.o.O. Diagon Alley .O.o.**

Diagon Alley was a mixture of sights, smells and tastes unlike anything Jack had ever experienced before. Walking down the alley, with Gobber grinning at his excitement and his mother gripping his shoulder as she sensed his eagerness to explore the sights, Jack craned his head in every direction, trying to see everything at once. Owls swooped low overhead, in broad daylight. Shop windows revealed wonders from mundane pewter cauldrons bubbling pink and green bubbles, to weird animals lounging in the sun. One, a purple cat that grinned broadly at the passing shoppers, much to a young witch's delight.

"Mum! Mum! Mum! Can we please get a Cheshire cat? Please please please pleeeeeaaaaase?"

"Come on now Alice. What about your owl Barney?"

Passing by the exasperated mother and her daughter, through the crowds Jack shifted, eyes wide scanning every shop that he could see. _'Eyelops Owl Emporium,'_ _'Flourish and Blotts,' 'Madame Malkin's'_ each one fascinating and bright, Jack wished he had twelve more eyes. The trio passed one shop, painted a bright, royal purple with gold fireworks dancing on the roof like leaping goldfish. Jack could feel his mother tighten her grip on his shoulder as he felt himself unconsciously drift towards _'Wonko's Joke Emporium.'_

"Now, now, ye'll have time enough ter look in there." Chuckled Gobber seeing the same strained expression on both faces, though for entirely different reasons. "First we've got ter get t' the bank fer money."

Jack's mother turned to Gobber, still pulling her wayward child along, as his feet forgot to move when they passed a crowd of boys her son's age, noses pressed against the glass of a shop, admiring the sleek polished models of the latest racing brooms.

"I have money, surely they'll accept pounds?" The statement came out as a question.

"Well ... Yes and no. Few shops around here accept muggle money." Gobber rubbed his chin, considering, "I don't think anyone knows how t' work it actually ... But no matter, ye can exchange it at th' bank." He gestured with his metal claw of a hand at a large, white marble building near the end of the alley. Jack and his mother both craned their necks as they approched the imposing structure. "Gringot's Wizard Bank." Announced Gobber at the foot of the steps leading into the bank. "The safest place in the world ... Except per'aps Hogwarts."

Inside the building, desks lined the walls, where ques of witches and wizards lined up. There wasn't a sound but the scritches and scratches of quills on parchment and the murmurs of the clients and ... bank employees. Actually, Jack didn't know what to call them. With long noses and fingers, ending in sharp nails, Jack couldn't help but stare at the 'employees' that didn't exactly look human. Standing and fidgeting next to his mother, waiting in the que for the _'Exchange Burue'_ Jack couldn't help the question that came next.

"Uh ... Gobber?" Jack whispered to their guide, who was vacantly staring into space, as if it was any other bank.

"Hm?"

"The workers, what are they?" Jack just couldn't keep his eyes away from the nearest ledger as 'he' scratched down the weight of two coal sized rubies on a set of scales at his elbow.

Noticing the object of his stare, Gobber answered. "They're goblins."

"Goblins?" Jack could barely keep his voice down.

"Yeah." Gobber paused, not sure whether the queasy expression on Jack's face was one of perverse fascination, or something else entirely. You could never tell with compulsive pranksters. He decided to elaborate, "Best bankers in the world they are, it's impossible t' steal anything from them."

"Have many people tried?"

"Oh loads. No one's ever succeeded though. The vaults are hundreds of metres below ground, it's an absolute maze. Even if yeh did get yer hands on anything, ye'd get lost trying to get out again. 'nd that's if the traps didn't get t' ye first." Gobber turned slightly green as the line moved forward. "I'm just glad we're not goin' down there."

"Why?"

"Oh, er ..." Gobber subconciously rubbed his belly. "Just, bad experiences."

There the conversation ended as they approached the desk. The goblin's black, beady eyes squinted at them from behind half-moon spectacles. Jack watched as his mother passed over paper notes in exchange for a coin collection of gold, copper and silver, which Gobber scooped into a leather pouch without bothering to count. Jack supposed that it'd be extremely rude to count the coins in front of the goblin, who was still giving them a suspicious inspection.

Jack was not sorry to leave the silence of the bank for the fresh air and bright sights of Diagon Alley. Now that they were ready, he had no idea where to begin, but that's where his mother, veteran of countless school-runs, stepped in.

"Right Jackson, I suppose you'd better start with your school uniform then." She turned to Gobber, "Where should he go for those?"

"That'd be 'Madame Malkin's Missus Overland." Seeing Jack itching to go exploring on his own, he winked at the anxious eleven year old. "But he might be in there sometime; he has t' be fitted after all. While he's there, we could go into 'Flourish and Blotts' to get his books. That way we save time and time's money after all."

Jack's mother looked at her watch, which wasn't working anymore, and then looked at her son who was now hopping from foot to foot in excitement. Past memories of Jack's 'wanderings' flashed through her head. "I don't know ..."

Gobber intervened, "Jack, do you remember seeing 'Madame Malkin's' on our way up?"

"Yeah. It's next to 'Eyelops Owl Empire,' or something like that."

"Owl _Emporium_." His mother couldn't help but correct him.

"Yeah, the owl shop. Not too hard to miss."

"Do you remember how to get there?"

"It's just down the street. What's hard about that?" Jack pretended not to see the sardonic Look that his mother gave him.

"And do you promise me, your future teacher, that ye will go straight there, and wait there?"

Bold as brass, Jack replied. "Of course, sir." The 'sir' added as an afterthought.

"Right then." Gobber reached into the purse of money and drew out a couple of coins. "There you go that should cover the cost of your robes." Gobber bent down to show him the coins. "The gold ones are Galleons, the silver ones Sickles and the bronze ones are Knuts. There are seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it'll be easy enough to work out." Gobber passed him the money and added in a low whisper that Jack had to strain to hear. "That should cover the cost of the robes, and there should be a little extra to get yerself something nice."

Grinning from ear to ear, Jack turned and bolted shouting a "Thankyou!" Over his shoulder as he leapt down the steps and dove into the crowd, leaving his mother to chastise his "future school teacher" for trying to parent his "future pupil." Jack smile widened. His cheeks were beginning to hurt.

If there was at least _one _advantage to being abnormally small for his age, it had to be the 'crowd dodging.' Jack slunk like a weasel through the crowds of shoppers, pausing at window fronts and poking his head though doorways to see inside. Technically he was breaking his promise already, but Jack figured that the crowds would slow his mother and Gobber down enough for him to have a little window shopping. He wasn't spending any money ... _yet_, and he didn't have to go inside the shops to see the _'New Nimbus Two Thousand' _in the shop window, or read price tags as he listened to fellow shoppers complain about them.

"Six sickles for a unicorn horn? They're practically stealing the clothes from our backs!"

"Hang on! I should get a discount for buying the star charts _with_ the telescope. Surely you can do a deal?"

"Awww, but Mum, can't I have a pet fer First Year?"

"It says cat, owl or _toad_ Merida. Why would ye want a _rat_?"

All too soon, Jack found himself standing in front of 'Madame Malkin's.' With nothing better to do, Jack walked inside. Fabric every shade of colour greeted his eyes as he stepped through the door, the bell tinkling over his head. He paused, wondering what to do next, when the shop assistant came over to greet him.

"Hello dear. Are you lost?"

"Uh no. I need robes for school."

The assistant blinked, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't-" she paused and started again. "Right, well ... Come right on in then. For Hogwarts is it?"

"Yup."

"I've another boy being fitted right now." She nodded at an oval faced boy, tall and gangly with fluffy hair and spatters of freckles across his nose, currently standing on a footstool as a second assistant measured his arms. "If you could just stand on there, this will only take a minute."

Standing on the stool, Jack waited with abnormal stillness as the assistant started measuring his height and arm length, before walking off to bring back her sewing kit, while the tape continued to measure his waist, his legs and his arms once again. For luck Jack supposed.

Curious, he turned his head to his neighbor. "Hi."

His neighbor blinked and returned his friendly stare. "Hello?"

Obviously he didn't talk much. Not a problem for Jack. "You're going to Hogwarts too then?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

Okay, maybe it was going to be a little challenging for someone who insisted in speaking in one word answers. Jack was going to have to try a new approach, or this awkward silence was going to drive him insane long before he made it back out the door, new tactic.

"It's funny, I never knew that this whole ... place, like magic," Jack would've gestured at the shop, if his arms weren't being fitted; "I didn't know that it all existed until I got my letter."

"Hmm."

Jack side-eyed him, now was the time for bluntness. "Are you usually this quiet?"

"I am with strangers."

Well it was a start. "I'm Jack, who are you?"

His future classmate was about to answer when the assistant measuring him interrupted their conversation.

"Alright dear, we've got the measurements. You can get down now." The other boy did so, while the assistant flicked her wand wordlessly, causing rolls of black fabric on a counter to stitch themselves together into a set of school robes. Jack couldn't help but stare at the needles whisk and jig through the new uniforms like silver fish through a black lake. Magic was just _so cool_.

"That'll be five Sickles. Thank you. The rest of your order will arrive for you at Hogwarts once we know which House you're in." With that the 'quiet boy' thanked her, picked up his new uniform, now wrapped as brown paper packages and walked out the door.

Soon afterwards Jack's fittings were done. He walked up to the counter, silently spying the self-stitching robes as they did their own little jig; _Magic was _really_ cool_; to pay for the clothing.

"That'll be five Sickles. Thank you. The rest of your order will arrive for you at Hogwarts once we know which House you're in."

"What's a House?"

The assistant blinked at the unexpected question. "It's a, well in Hogwarts the student population is divided up into four groups; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. They're classes, I guess, but they're more like families." The assistant, looking barely out of school herself, suddenly had a dreamy, faraway look. "I was in Hufflepuff myself, good house that one."

"What are the others like?" Jack asked, burning with curiosity now that someone was giving him answers about his new school.

"Oh, the others are good in their own way. Hufflepuff's the best, though I suppose Gryffindor does come a close second. They're a bit righteous though. Ravenclaw's full of booky nerds I recon. Don't even get me started on Slyther-"

The bell above the door rang across her mid-sentence, bringing in a stream of more eleven year olds and parents. The assistant looked at Jack apologetically. "Sorry, I'm going to have to go. You'll find out more though I'm sure." She handed him his parcels, gave possibly a little too much change, before walking out from behind the counter to greet a brown haired girl in the suddenly crowded store.

With his parcels under one arm, Jack walked out of 'Madame Malkin's' back into the populated Diagon Alley. Neither Gobber or his mother were there to meet him, not a problem. He looked at the change in his hand. There was a Galleon, two Sickles, and a collection of gold Knuts, more money than his mother had ever allowed him in his life, if he was one to judge. Despite the tingle in his fingers to go find 'Wonko's' and spend it all in there, in a moment of surprising maturity, Jack figured that he should get more supplies for school.

He set off down the street, crowd dodging again. He did need potion supplies, and somewhere in this direction was the shop where he'd heard a witch complain loudly. Something about a unicorn horn. Sounded like a good place to try. Down the alley, past an ice-cream café, a shop which sold gleaming brass telescopes and what looked like an antiques store, displaying a gramophone belting out a steamy jazzy number. It was on the opposite side of the narrow alleyway that Jack found a store, simply named _'Apothecary.'_ He quickly slipped inside after a young witch and her two parents as the singer on the record started the last chorus.

_"Oh come and stir my cauldron,_

_"And if you stir it ri-"_ the door slammed leaving Jack in the gloomy, yet interesting smelling store.

Shelves lined the walls of the room from the ceiling to the floor, displaying a weird and fantastic selection of jars and ingredients. The floor was given to tables, spaced evenly apart displaying cauldrons, some huge and bulky, others small, collapsible traveling ones. One cauldron, which had a whole table to itself, looked like it was made of solid gold. Staring at a bottled lizard, probably a newt, Jack heard the other customers he'd slipped in behind murmur to each other in low voices.

"So Maria, do you have your list?"

"Yes father."

Jack felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach, as he realized that while he had enough money to buy his ingredients, he didn't know what he was _supposed_ to get. Looking up from a jar of black beetle eyes, _'five Knuts a scoop'_ he watched the small family read from a list, and move through the store. The parents shepherded a young witch, who looked about his age, through stacks of cauldrons as she read the labels on the shelves. Seeing her looking through her list gave Jack an idea. Silently he slipped behind the trio and watched. When the mother picked up a cauldron, _'pewter, size 2,'_ Jack did the same. When the father picked out a set of scales, so did Jack, placing them inside his cauldron. When the young witch paused to pick up a bottle from the shelf, Jack would slip it into his cauldron as well.

Playing this bizarre game, Jack eventually had the same items as on the list in the girl's hand. With a potion full of goods, and a smile on his lips from his new-found fun, Jack went up to the counter to pay for everything.

Walking out into the alley, slightly stumbling under all the parcels he was carrying, Jack started moving carefully down the cobblestone street. Peering from around both the cauldron of bottles and the brown paper packages, he nearly dropped both when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Jackson Overland."

_'Uh oh.'_

Still balancing all his packages, Jack turned slowly around to face his irate mother, her mouth set in a grim line, a stack of books under her arm.

"Uh, hi?"

"Where have you been young man?"

"Getting my potion things?" Jack couldn't help but admit that he was a little nervous. His mother never called him 'young man' unless she had a reason to. "Look, I got everything, even the cauldron. You weren't there when I finished at Madame Malkin's, and I had a lot of change. So I figured-"

"You're rambling."

Jack stopped, realizing that his mother was now smiling. Huh, he wasn't in that munch trouble at all. That was weird.

"That was very mature of you." Jack flushed a little, he wasn't told that every day. "But next time, I'd rather that you stay where you're told. Come here." She took his uniform from him, leaving Jack with his cauldron of supplies. "We'd best make a start on the rest of your book list."

With that, the two of them set of down Diagon Alley, buying little wonders for Jack's future days at school.

"Hang on, where did Gobber go?"

"We parted ways after I got your books. Apparently he forgot something at the bank."

.o.O. _Hiccup_ .O.o.

Parcels on his lap, arms crossed around his knees, Hiccup sat on the steps in front of Gringots, waiting for his father to meet him there. He'd been sitting on the steps for the last twenty minutes, and his legs were now asleep. He couldn't care less. For the past fifteen minutes, he'd been watching the owls swoop low overhead. Twenty five had passed with letters, six had passed with small parcels, four had gone by with nothing and two glided down the alley with mice.

He wasn't bored, he was just ... no, he _was_ bored.

Maybe he should've stayed in Madame Malkin's. Then again, maybe not. Talking to people was not his strength, strength was not his strength. He couldn't start a conversation without someone sniggering at him by the end of it. Best to just avoid people, be done with it.

He was interrupted from his musing, when he heard a very distinctive footstep.

Thump, _clunk_, thump, _clunk_, thump, _clunk_.

Hiccup turned his gaze from the sky to the crowd, as he saw a very distinctive and recognizable figure come towards him and proceeded up the steps.

Thump, _clunk_, thump, _clunk_.

"Gobber?"

The harried-looking man turned around to see Hiccup looking at him from his seat.

"Hiccup?"

They spoke the next question at the same time.

"What are you doing here?"

Gobber answered first. "I, um, er ... I've got Hogwarts bus'ness that I've got ter do. What 'bout you?"

"Waiting for my dad. He said that he'd come help me set up an account when I had all my things." Hiccup paused and looked back into the crowd, "I think he's forgotten to actually."

Gobber didn't know which was worse, that Hiccup had obviously been waiting far too long on the stone steps, or the manner-of-fact way he spoke of his own father's negligence.

"See, I need a guardian to sign some of the documents before I can open an account." Gobber started as Hiccup's explanation continued, "Because I'm under seventeen." He shrugged, "So I'm just going to have to wait here 'till he comes."

Gobber looked back up the alley again, seeing no sign of Stoick's bear-like build, then turned back to his friend's son, who had returned to some owl gazing activity. He debated inside himself, _'did he have enough time to get everything done?'_ Before sighing and making his way back to Hiccup.

"Come on then lad."

Hiccup blinked in reply turning back to Gobber after watching a barn owl fly erratically by. "Huh?"

"I'm headed into the bank myself, I've got ter make a withdraw'l, I can sign as yer guardian." Gobber paused, "They should let me do that shouldn't they?" He shrugged, "Can't see why not."

He turned and headed back up the marble steps, before realizing that Hiccup was still seated, watching him with a puzzled expression. Gobber chuckled, "Ye coming or what lad?" Smiling he heard Hiccup's light tread behind him, rushing to catch up. He pushed open the door to see Hiccup do a strange little jig behind him, groaning. Hiccup answered Gobber's unspoken question.

"Pins and needles, _ow ow owowowowowow!_"

Chuckling quietly, Gobber entered the bank, Hiccup following at his heels.

Like before, the bank was near silent. Even Gobber's wooden leg clunked on the floor in a muted manner. Unlike before though, the bank was near empty, allowing Hiccup and Gobber to aproach the nearest desk where the bank clerk was quietly scratching away at a ledger book.

"Her hm." Gobber cleared his throat. The goblin looked up slowly, not yet placing his quill down. "We'd like to open 'n account please."

"In whose name?" The goblin's voice was low and quiet.

"Mine." Hiccup's voice was like a squeak, he couldn't help it, the bank had always made him nervous. It didn't help that the clerk was now peering at him, black eyes narrowed like two tunnels.

The goblin turned to Gobber. "And I assume that you're his guardian sir?"

"That's why I'm here, innit?"

"Very well, one moment please." The goblin looked under his desk to reach in and take out a form, handing it to Gobber with a sharp eagle quill. "Just fill in the neccessary details, it's not too complicated." Hiccup could swear that there was a smirk playing in the corner of the goblin's mouth. He gave Gobber a worried look, as the wizard in question scrawled his sloppy signature with his tongue between his teeth. He handed the form to Hiccup, much to everyone's relief.

"There you go lad, you can do the rest." Gobber turned to the goblin, "He's got ter make a deposit, doesn't 'e?"

The goblin wrinkled his nose, "Yes."

"Well, while we're down there I've got ter make a withdraw'l." He said as he reached into a pocket to pull out a slightly crumpled looking letter. On the back the word 'Private' written in vaguely familiar handwriting to Hiccup. "It's fer the you-know-what in vault seven hundred and thirteen." Gobber continued as he placed the letter on the desk. Hiccup watched the exchange with interest, vaguely forgetting the sheets in his own hands.

Watching him suspiciously from over his half-moon spectacles, the goblin slit open the letter with one of his long fingernails.

"Don't you have to finish those forms lad?" Jumping, Hiccup quickly scribbled the rest of his details on the application and signed before handing the sheet back to the desk, where the goblin was waiting impatiently. Well no one could blame him for being curious, he was now itching to read the 'private' letter. Must've been good if the goblin's small smirk was now replaced with a slight frown.

"Thank you mister," the goblin checked the form, "Haddock." The clerk gestured at a door the the left of the desk, where a goblin half Hiccup's height and wearing a nasty smile was waiting. "Bogrod shall show you to your vaults. Your key sir." Their clerk handed Hiccup a tiny gold key with a set of numbers engraved in the handle. "Your account is vault number six hundred and ninety seven." And with that, the goblin returned to his ledger book.

Hiccup, clutching his key in a death grip, followed Gobber to the door, where Bogrod grinned a sharp toothed smile. Hiccup didn't know whether a smiling goblin was more scary than a frowning one.

"Welcome, you know my name, I shall be your guide."

Wow, what customer service.

Bogrod briskly turned and opened the door, to reveal a mining cart resting on a set of tracks like a train at a station. Bogrod, with a gas lamp, climbed into the front, Hiccup sat behind him, while Gobber, groaning and looking slightly green already, sat at the back. He tapped Hiccup on the shoulder with his metal claw, the other hand was currently on the side of the cart in a death grip. "I'd appreciate it if yeh didn't talk t' me while we're movin' lad. I'd really like t' keep my lunch down."

That was all Hiccup heard before Bogrod pushed foward on a lever and released the brakes. The cart surged forward with a skin-peeling speed into the darkness of the tunnel ahead. Bogrod cackled while Hiccup could hear Gobber's groaning over the wind. It was an exhilarating nightmare of speed, twists turns and sudden drops. Hiccup tried to keep track of the tunnels they were taking. Left, right, middle fork, right, right, left, down but it was no use. They were moving and swerving too fast for Hiccup to concentrate.

Instead he watched as they weaved through stalagmites and stalactites, occasionally passing out on other slower-moving carts. Disorientated, Hiccup turned to watch the other cart grind to a halt before seeing Gobber, whose green face had changed to the colour of grey porridge. Hiccup quickly turned his head to the front, hoping that they were stopping soon. It didn't look like Gobber could hold on much longer and Hiccup seriously didn't want to be a casualty of that.

As if in answer of his prayers, Hiccup could feel the cart slowing down. Along the walls of the natural cave, metal doors were lined in the corridor, like a hallway. The cart eventually ground to a halt, with a worrying sounding clunk, in front of one door. Bogrod pulled on the brake and leapt with surprising agility on to the station. Waiting for his passengers with the lamp, he announced their stop with his unnerving grin.

"Vault six hundred and ninety seven." Hiccup, realizing that this was his vault, scrambled clumsily out of the cart, slightly surprised to feel how shakey his legs were. They weren't as bad as Gobber's though, who waddled to the wall and was currently leaning on it heavily and breathing deeply.

"Oooooh ... Merlin's beard, I hate those bloody carts." Muttered Gobber, his face still quite green from where Hiccup was standing. He turned back to Bogrod, who was currently scanning the door with the lamp.

He must have found what he was looking for as he put his lamp on the ground and looked around to see Hiccup watching him. Grinning, he held out his sharp-nailed hand. "Key please." Hiccup handed him the tiny gold key. Bogrod turned his back to Hiccup, who now couldn't see where exactly the lock was when it clicked and the door opened. _'But maybe'_ Hiccup thought _'maybe that's the point.'_ He turned to go inside the vault.

All it was, was a simple empty room, completely bare apart from some basic wooden shelving on one of the four walls. Hiccup went to one of the corners, where two of the shelves met, and placed a small leather purse of coins on the shelves. Then, he reached into the pocket of his jeans to place a simple, oval locket next to it. There, that was his deposit, his pocket savings and his mother's necklace in a place where they could not be safer. Satisfied, Hiccup returned to Gobber and their guide outside the vault.

After returning his key to Hiccup, Bogrod climbed back into the cart, followed by Hiccup. Gobber hesitated, his face now a little healthier looking than when he first traveled by cart.

"Could ye make it a li'l slower please?"

Bogrod gave, in Gobber's opinion, a very vindictive looking grin. "One speed only."

Gobber's response was a hopeless groan and some interesting sounding cursing as he reluctantly returned to his seat at the back of the cart. The most polite muttering Hiccup could make out being, "Every. Single. Bloody. Time. Honestly, I think the fecker's 're doin' this on purpose."

If Bogrod heard the angry mumbles from the back, he gave no indication. _'But,'_ thought Hiccup as the three of them swung violently around a corner, _'that take-off was a little too vicious.'_

Once again they were whistling down the tunnels, deeper and deeper into the darkness. The vaults here looked extremely old and it was steadily getting colder and darker the further down the tunnels they went. As they passed one tunnel from the left, flames erupted from the dark, just missing them as they passed. Hiccup leaned out to see if he could spot what kind of dragon it was. Gobber groaned and grabbed him by the scruff to pull him back into the cart.

On and on, twisting through the narrow tunnels they sped. Just when Hiccup was convinced that he was going to get whiplash from the high-speed narrow turns they were making, he finally, finally felt the cart slow down. Just in time too, Gobber was making worrying gurgling sounds behind him.  
The cart finally halted infront of a vault, the stonework above the door engraved with the number;

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen." declared Bogrod hopping out and once again waiting for his passengers to recover from the rough ride. Gobber was swaying a little when Bogrod asked them to stand back. Raising a single finger, Bogrod slide his fingernail down the door's seam. Hiccup could hear the click and whir of gears spinning in some mechanism on the otherside of the door. Mind clicking like the gears in the door. He asked a question without meaning to.

"That only works for goblins doesn't it?"

Bogrod turned with a raised eyebrow. "But of course. If anyone else attempted to do open the door they'd be sucked inside and trapped there." Bogrod tilted his head considering, as the vault's doors opened wider. "Or at least until we inspect the vault."

"And how often do you check it?"

Bogrod grinned his nasty smile. "About once every ten years."

Hiccup was not quite sure that he liked Bogrod.

All thoughts were pushed aside though, as Hiccup craned around Gobber, who was walking into the vault to see what was inside. Images of gold and riches danced through his head, surely there'd be more than what was in his own vault. He was surprised to see that he was wrong. The chamber was completely empty. Nothing inside, not the bare shelves in Hiccup's own vault, not even a dust bunny in the corners of the room. It was completely empty save for a little package in the middle of the floor, which Gobber picked up and stowed away in a little pocket in his cloak.

Gobber turned to make his way out of the vault. Seeing Hiccup waiting for him, uniform packaged under his arm and questions in his eyes, he spoke, "I'd appreciate it if ye didn't tell anyone 'bout this Hiccup." Hiccup himself, nodded but his eyes were still too bright, a sign that he'd seen a puzzle, and was determined to find its answer.

"Just get in the ruddy cart lad, 'nd no questions."

One hair-raising cart ride later found Hiccup and Gobber blinking in the sunlight flooding Diagon Alley. "Well, I'd best be leaving, now that I've done my piece. Er," Gobber looked down the alley only to see the crowds parting for a huge, familiar, bear-like figure coming towards the bank. "Ain't that Stoick?"

Hiccup turned to see his father walking up the steps to Gringot's, head straight foward. He didn't see nor hear Hiccup, who was waving and shouting. It took Gobber's boom to get Stoick's attention.

"Oi! Stoick!"

Head turning towards the sound, Stoick started when he saw the two of them by the Gringot's exit. As he made his way over to them, Hiccup could see that he was cradling some kind of basket.

Stoick Haddock, or Stoick the Vast as he was known among peers was aptly named. With a foot of height over Gobber, he towered over Hiccup, who was now completely in his shadow.

"Gobber." Stoick nodded to his friend.

"Stoick." Gobber returned the greeting. "What have you got there?"

"It's fer Hiccup." Stoick answered and with that, handed the case to Hiccup, who nearly dropped his uniform trying to take it.

"Here lad let me take those." In one meaty hand, Stoick caught the parcels before they hit the ground. There was an awkward pause.

"So ... er, well done fer gettin' into Hogwarts lad." Stoick clumsily patted his son on the shoulder. Stoick was never a 'feelings' person and had no idea how to express them. Not that Hiccup minded, he was busy unbuckling the basket with his nimble fingers.

He soon had it open to peer inside, where a pair of green eyes peered back. The cat yawned from its comfortable position in the basket and after giving Hiccup a lazy half-lidded inspection, promptly fell back asleep in its carrier case. Hiccup turned to smile at his father, who harrumphed and squeezed his shoulder again before turning back to march up the alley next to Gobber.

"Got yer things Hiccup?"

"Yeah, they're back at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Hmm." Hiccup walked close on the heels of both Gobber and Stoick, who with their shared bulk parted the crowds easily. As he trotted behind the two, careful not to jostle the basket, Hiccup listened in on their conversation.

"-So I found him on the steps, waiting for you. That reminds me Chief, why were you late anyways?"

"There was a hold up at the store."

.o.O. _Eyelop's Owl Emporium_ .O.o.

Mrs Overland loved her son, really she did. She loved him as much and more as a mother could love her children. Of course he was mischievous, a trouble maker and not a little too sly, but he was also thoughtful, resourceful and a fantastic leader. Many classroom uprisings had been caused by her Jack-Boy. It was amazing that he wasn't expelled years ago. She wondered how many of his pranks were caused by Jack himself and how many were just signs of latent magic. Now that she thought about it, she really should've seen the signs when she received angry letters home about various past teachers of his claiming that he turned their hair blue.

Yes, she loved her son, really she did.

"Mum! Mum! Can we please get her? Pleeeeease?"

But that didn't mean that there weren't rough days.

"I'll feed her, I'll clean her, I'll exercise her. I'll write every day from school."

It was supposed to be a simple gift, a small one; after his surprising moment of maturity. Maybe a toad or a cat so that he didn't feel so homesick while he was away.

"Look Mum she likes me!"

Indeed, the two were inseparable the moment Jack stepped into the shop.

"And Mary will love her and we can write to each other from school and that way we're sharing her and she can catch all the mice in the attic-"

"Jackson," her son immediately fell silent, "a cat could do that as well." She really hoped that she could get him a kitten, just a small, easily cared for kitten. But no, the more and more she tried, the more and more adament Jack was to get an-

"Owl's are more useful than cats." Announced Jack, the small white barn owl currently perched on his head like some bizarre feathery hat hooted loudly in agreement. "Aren't they mister Eyelop?"

The small man in question, white feathery hair askew from chasing the loose owl around the store jumped at the question. A strained expression on his face, he nodded so vigorously that his spectacles bounced on the bridge of his nose. "Yes, of course they are. They're very popular with students ..." He paused as two of these students in question passed the shop, or rather were steered form the shop when their parents saw the state of the interior. "Mostly because they can correspond with their families and-"

Eyelop's head swiveled sharply as the store bell rang and a huge bear-like wizard stood in the door way. The man ducked his head under the door frame, scanned the broken-looking shop, with bird cages askew, some rolling on the ground from where they'd fallen, their occupants screeching form inside, or up in the rafters of the shop. A tangled mess of feathers, pellets and bird waste was scattered on the floor and a table lay on its side. At the centre stood Jack and his partner in crime, who when she didn't look like she was trying scalp him or nibble on his ear, was hissing at anyone who came too close to her perch. Be they wizard, witch, muggle or owl, she didn't discriminate.

The potential customer took one look at the sorry mess, including Eyelop himself, who now looked like one of his many berragled owls, huffed and left the store. Eyelop deflated, one loose owl had cost him roughly three sold ones. He turned to Mrs Overland.

"If you want I'll cut a deal with you. You can have the cage, pellets, the whole lot, I just want that one," Mrs Overland wasn't sure whether he pointed to her son or the owl, "outta here."

Jack beamed, his mother sighed. "How much?"

Within thirty seconds the Overlands were shunted from the store, a large bag of pellets in Mrs Overland's arms, an empty cage in Jack's. The rogue owl was still on Jack's head and it took much cajoling by both Jack and his mother to get her back into her cage, where she promptly started sulking. The door to 'Eyelop's Owl Emporium' slammed shut behind them.

Jack was absolutely delighted and smiling from ear to ear. His mother was a little less ... Spirited.

"We are never doing that again." She deadpanned.

Jack's response was only to grin. His mother sighed and consulted the school letter once more. "Let's see, we have your books, uniform, ingredients, telescope, trunk and star charts. All you need now is-"

"A wand." Jack answered. His mother turned to look at him, and could tell, not from his broad smile, but from a spark behind his eye, that this was what he was really looking forward to.

She sighed, "Come on then." She started pacing down the cobblestones. "The letter says that there's a particularly good wand maker on this alley. It's called the-"

"'Wood Whittler?'" Jack asked

His mother side-eyed him, still holding the letter in front of her. "Yes. How did you know?"

As much as he was able to, Jack pointed towards a small store painted in black that squatted between two taller buildings on either side, like a tempestuous old widow between two models. The gold lettering on the sign read, _'The Wood Whittler, Finest Maker of Fine Wands Since 382AD.'_ Shrugging, Mrs Overland followed her son into the shop.

The first thing that Jack noticed the moment he stepped inside were the bears. They were everywhere, carved little figures with expressive faces notched solidly into the wooden walls of the store. Some of them looked like they were carved from the wall. Jack craned his neck to see, yep. The little guys were peering from the rafters. The second thing Jack noticed was the silence, it reminded him of libraries and museums. It was unnerving, like he was being watched. Jack quickly checked the bears again. They weren't moving, but they were starting to get really creepy.

The third thing he noticed were the shelves, though they really should've been the first. Large shelves rose from the ground to the ceiling, every one of them stacked full of thin black boxes, not unlike shoe boxes. Jack could see more bears neatly slotted between them. Yes, it felt very much like a library in here. He placed the owl cage on the floor, near the door.

"Hello?" the greeting fell like a thump, clunk into the silence of the store. He tried again, hearing his mother enter behind him.

"Hello?"

"I'm in the back deary." A friendly voice called out.

Jack turned to his mother, who shrugged and sat down on a spindly chair by the door to wait.

They didn't wait long. An elderly woman, silver hair pulled tight into a bun and a toothless grin in greeting, walked out from around one of the shelves to meet them. She had obviously been sweeping, her green robes and shawl were covered in a fine layer of sawdust, which fluttered to the ground as she leaned her broom against the small counter. She turned back to them and regarded them both with eyes that shone like twin moons. Even Jack's new owl had brought her head up from under her wing to watch.

"Hogwarts deary?" Jack opened his mouth to answer. "Ach but o' course ye are. I don't remember sellin' ye a wand and," she leaned in close with those bright moon-eyes, "I never ferget a wand I've sold." She turned away, breaking the unnerving stare, much to Jack's relief, to shuffle behind the desk and rummage around for something. She found it under a bear-carving standing its silent vigil on the desk. She walked briskly back to Jack, who was staring at her broom sweeping by itself after the trail of sawdust behind the elderly witch.

"What's yer wand arm boy?"

Jack snapped back to the present as the witch brandishing a roll of measuring tap held out a hand.

"Uh ..."

The woodcarver rolled her eyes, "What hand d' ye write with boy?"

"My right?"

With that the witch grabbed the said arm by the wrist and started measuring it. She measured it from shoulder to elbow, then from elbow to wrist, then from wrist to fingertip, of every finger. It was while the tape was measuring his wrist size that she shuffled off and started climbing a ladder to one of the highest shelves.

"'Tis the wand that chooses the wizard Mr Overland. No two wizards 're the same, so no two wands 're the same." The tape was now measuring from his shoulder to his foot and now his foot length as the wood carver made her way down to the floor, collecting boxes as she went. "It may be a bit o' time 'till we find the appropriate one. So," she picked up another box, "We'll just start with these teh cut ye'r teeth." She turned to face Jack, who was currently having his right nostril length measured and clicked her fingers. The tape fell to the ground lifeless.

"Right." The wandmaker placed the boxes on the counter and took one out. "Try this'un. Ash and Unicorn hair." She handed it to Jack, who held it, feeling slightly foolish. He looked up from the shaft of lightly coloured wood to the wandmaker, not sure what he was supposed to do.

She raised a sliver eyebrow and gave him a gummy grin. "Give it a wave lad."

Shrugging Jack flicked the wand carelessly. Silver moons flashed in alarm. "Nay lad! Not-"

PING THUMP BOOM CRUNCH!

The three occupants stood frozen on the shop, as a wooden bear thumped on the ground from the collapsed shelving and crushed boxes.

"Like that." finished the witch, silver eyes wide. Head hunched between his shoulders, Jack placed the 'wrong wand' on the counter.

"Hmmmm." The elderly craftswoman waddled over to the collapsed shelving and rummaged through the carnage. Gingerly placing the bears she found standing in a little row, she tucked a couple of boxes under one arm and made her way back to the front. "Here lad, oak and phoenix feather." She handed him another wand and ducked behind the counter. Holding the wood by his fingertips Jack flicked it softly.

Nothing happened.

The witch peered up from over the counter. "Well, 'tis a nay fer tha' one."

And so the process continued. The witch would hand Jack a wand, then duck behind cover as Jack gingerly waved the offered wand, sometimes causing damage, sometimes not. Sometimes nothing would happen at all, no matter how much he waved or flicked. Other times the witch would hand him a wand only to snatch it back immediately.

"Nay what was I thinking! Ye'r no walnut, I can tell ye that."

The pile of 'wrong wands' grew on the counter until finally, after Jack had caused an apple and dragon heartstring wand to spew out flames, the wandmaker looked at Jack, scrutinized him really with those silver eyes.

"Hmmmm." Jack watched her as he placed the wand on the counter. She wove between the shelves that were still standing, right into the very heart of the store, to the point where he couldn't see her through the gloom of the shop. He turned his gaze to the wands on the counter, then to the window outside, where he could see his mother waiting with the owl cage. She had moved outside at some point during the 'experiments.' Probably three wands after the first shelf collapsed. He sat on the chair she left behind.

"Here we are!" Jack's head snapped up as the wandmaker came back out of the gloom blowing dust off of the small box in her hand.

"Knew I had i' somewhere. This'd be one o' my earlier makes, yew 'nd dragon hearstring, quite a potent mix." She lifted the box and whipped out the wand, holding the end out to Jack. "Per'aps ye'r a yew?"

Jack took the wand from her and looked at the dark wood. There were little whirls and twists in the wood that spiraled up to the tip, like frost ferns on a winter's morning. Jack turned the wand to look at the other side, when there was a glow of blue light and snowflakes spurted out the end. Surprised Jack glanced up at the witch, who was watching the little flurries dance along the draft under the door.

"Oooh, that's nice that is." She looked up at Jack, her creepy, but friendly, silver eyes glowing. "Try it again lad."

Carefully now, Jack waved the wand. The wood cooled, then glowed blue again and left trails of little snowflakes bouncing in the slight air currents. One of the snowflakes landed on Jack's nose, he giggled, he couldn't help it. He tapped the wooden wall beside him and watched in amazement as frost grew up along the walls in swirling, star-like patterns.

"Now now lad. Dinnae get carried away." Jack smiled sheepishly and handed the wand back to the wandmaker, who promptly placed it in its box and handed it back to Jack with a gummy smile. "Looks like this 'un's chosen you lad. Yeh must be special, I haven't sold many o' these." Her eyes darkened. "And those that I 'ave were not what I'd call ... nice."

Jack felt a chill crawl up his spine as she looked at him closely with those creepy eyes, her face serious. He blinked and she was smiling again. "But maybe this 'uns different ey?" She started moving beyond him to the door.

"That'll be seven Galleons lad. Now where's yer mother?"

Huh, weird.

The wandmaker opened the shop door behind Jack and walked outside to Mrs Overland. Jack followed closely behind holding his precious wand. It had chosen him. It had chosen him. There was a little bubble of warmth growing in Jack's chest as his mother paid seven Galleons for his wand. Jack was grinning from ear to ear as the two of them set off down Diagon Alley back to the Leaky Cauldron.

He twisted to look back and wave at the little wood-carving witch, only to find that she'd gone. Where there was once a small shop stooped between two larger ones, there was now just another alleyway. Puzzled, he walked beside his mother as they stepped through the archway, back into the 'real' world. Something was itching at the back of his brain and it wasn't until the two of them, plus their packages, were seated on the bus back to Bugress Hill that he finally realized what it was.

"Did we ever tell her our names?"

"No."

"Huh."

**.o.O. _Author's Note_ .O.o.**

_Wow ... It's actually done. A week's work, seventeen pages long and I'm still having fun with this. I hope you guys are buckled up for a long ride, because I might just continue this project. Flaws and all.  
_

_Now that there's a full chapter ya'll better review. I haven't been able to send this to my lovely, wonderful Beta reader yet, but they'll know that it's up here the minute I post it, God bless that alert button. So, ye'd better tell me where I've gone wrong so I can correct it.  
_

**_Three Big Points,_**_1) The owl  
_

_2) The wandmaker_

_3) And most importantly, that little package. Ooh, I wonder what it could be?_

_The rest of it is just a little fluff and references, lots of references. Or are they?_

_While we're on that topic, I'm going to set a little homework for all you lovely people. If you have a Tumblr account, I order you to log in and look up 'emiismadeoffart.' She is the person responsible for the original 'Potteriffic AU,' the blog that this Fic is named after. She is posting her own version of the story, and I demand that you go and read it, and look up all of her wonderful art while you're at it._

_Second point that I'd like to make is that not nearly enough people do this cliche properly. (Let's not pretend here. There are so many Fics based on this AU, it's practically its own fandom) Most writers skip to third year, where "shit gets real," (*le gasp* Scandal, this is a K+ fic!) and leave out what is probably the most important year, First Year._

_Let's be honest people, it's the first book which is the most important one, in ALL forms of media. It's where you introduce the characters, the world, the story, everything of any value is given in the introduction to make the reader __want__ to read on. So, I'm taking my time with this one to write it properly. Expect the next chapter to have the Hogwart's Express, and lots of it._

_Once again, please leave a review in the box, the longer, the better. I need to know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. I'd appreciate it if it was something a little longer than, "Wow, this is good. Write more." Please leave something a little more substantial._

_TheShippingMaster doesn't count, they were the only person to review, when I know for a fact that there have been over a hundred viewings of this project and the chapter wasn't even finished when they did so. In my eyes they can get away with bloody murder. (Also known as 'texting language')_

_Until next time,_

_Anyelse_


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**.o.O. **_**The Hogwarts Express **_**.O.o.**

To say that Rapunzel Corona was simultaneously excited and terrified of traveling to Hogwarts would have been the understatement of the year. She crossed off the days on the calendar with an almost religious obsession. She checked off her book list twice and packed everything neatly into her trunk, only to unpack everything when she thought she'd forgotten her history book. She hadn't, but it never hurt to check. She constantly had butterflies in her stomach and had mood changes that swung from finger-tingling excitement, to sinking dread. Her pet toad, Wilhelm, apathetically watched her pace in her attic room from his tank on her desk. His lumpy skin changing color with her mood swings.

On the morning of September the first, Wilhelm's skin was a bright, butter yellow. Rapunzel was humming an upbeat tune as she skipped to the London cab parked outside her family's house. Her mother was sitting in the back, neat muggle clothing freshly laundered for today. Her father was helping the driver lift Rapunzel's trunk into the boot of the taxi, the novelty of muggle travel bringing a smile to his lips, even as the two men struggled under the weight of the trunk.

Rapunzel was still humming as the cab parked outside King's Cross Station, Wilhelm croaking along inside her pocket. She insisted on rolling the trolley through the station. It was harder than it looked, but Rapunzel _refused _to complain. She was going to Hogwarts, she was going to enjoy it and she was going to make loads of friends. It was going to be the first time she spent any significant time away from her parents; a thrilling and terrifying prospect for the eleven year old.

Out of sight, Wilhelm's skin shifted form a bright, sunny yellow, to a queasy-looking orange.

"Are you sure you don't want a hand Rapunzel?" Asked her father when she narrowly avoided crashing into the guard on platform eight.

"Yes, thank you father."

"They are finicky little devices though aren't they?" Mr. Corona looked at the wheels under the trolley uncertainly. "I remember when I was starting at Hogwarts; we used to come through a back door system." He paused as he watched a brother and sister pass them out, the sister riding on top of the luggage while her brother pushed the trolley that looked far too big for him. "It meant we could load up the train with magic and none of this trolley business."

"Honey, that was the maintenance exit. They had to close that when too many students started going through the employees' lounge." A woman holding a cage with a white barn owl hurried past them after the brother and sister.

"Well, yes. But the point is ... What was my point again?"

Rapunzel giggled as her mother rolled her eyes. "We're here dear."

Indeed there it was the gateway between platforms nine and ten. A flat, red-brick pillar, the plastic numbers nine and ten in metal frames on either side. They were being scrutinized by a small, brown-haired boy, who looked from one to the other, then the pillar between them and repeat. Beside him, his oversized trolley was parked, sister still perched on top of a trunk, now holding the cage with the white barn owl and giggling at her older brother's 'serious' face. Their mother, looking up and down the station, noticed the small family approaching them.

She smiled at them, noticing Rapunzel with her trunk on the trolley, and walked over to the trio. "Excuse me, could you help us?"

"But of course! I'd be most happy to help you!" Mr. Corona answered a little too loudly, sunny smile lighting across his face. His wife gave an apologetic smile to the mother who was blinking in surprise at his enthusiasm.

"Do you need getting help on to the platform?"

"Yes, please." The woman, possibly a muggle smiled gratefully at Maria's mother.

"It's simple really. You just walk straight at the wall between the platforms." Mrs. Corona nodded at the very solid looking pillar that the woman's son was now rapping at with his knuckles. "If you want, we can all go together."

"Yes thank you." She smiled at the family. "Do you mind if we go first? It's just that-"

"WOAH!"

The mother snapped her head back to the pillar just in time to see her son stumble through the solid stone. Leaving his sister on her perch, staring open mouthed at the red-brick wall. The owl in her arms started shrieking shrilly and wildly flapping her wings.

"Oh bloody, bloody Hell." Without a further word, she rushed back to the trolley and grabbed the handles. Looking back at Mrs. Corona, she made one last check.

"You just walk straight at the wall?"

"If you're nervous you can do it at a run." Mr. Corona answered, looking very hard like he was trying not to laugh.

The strange woman nodded and started trotting towards the pillar. A crowd of muggles, rucksacks on their backs, walked across their vision. When the last back-packer walked past, the mother with her daughter and trolley had disappeared. Mr. Corona chuckled slightly and shook his head. "You've got to admire her moxie."

"What's moxie?"

"Spirit honey." Rapunzel's mother answered a little smile in the corner of her mouth as she turned to her husband. "You see dear? This is why the gateway's here. _Everyone_ can find it."

"Alright, alright. No need to rub it in." He was smiling as he and his wife turned to his daughter. "Ready princess?"

_"Dad!"_

"Okay, on three. One, two ..."

_Three._

Together, they walked to the gateway. The wall came closer and closer, they were going to crash! Rapunzel shut her eyes tight for the inevitable chaos.

It never came. Instead she opened her eyes to see a crowded platform. Parents in muggle clothing were waving and helping their sons and daughters onto the train. Cats of every shade and color ran rampant underfoot, while owls sat in cages, hissing at any feline that came too close. Students crowded the windows and doorways onto the carriages behind a huge scarlet steam engine, waving to parents and younger siblings alike. Some were anxiously glancing up at a large clock that hung from the wall as they struggled to heave their trunks up the crowded steps. Through the white smoke belching out of the steam engine, the large, white clock face counted down the seconds to eleven 'o clock.

"Come on honey, we've only got fifteen minutes." Rapunzel's parents wove through the crowd with surprising agility, now that magic was permitted. She saw her mother tap the side of her trunk and she nearly lost control of the trolley again when the small hovering charm took most, but not all of the weight of the trunk off of the trolley. She rolled her trunk over to one of the middle carriages and her father lifted it up onto the train. Rapunzel promptly followed, hopping onto the train with a spring in her step.

Grinning, she turned to her parents beaming at her from the platform. Her mother blew her a kiss, while her father mimed writing letters over the noise of the platform. Rapunzel waved, before ducking into the carriage and making her way along the corridor, dragging her trunk along behind her. She opened the first empty compartment she found, not quite ready to make friends yet, and wrestled her trunk into a corner of the compartment.

Rapunzel was now alone in the compartment with no one but Wilhelm to keep her company. She smiled and took him out of her pocket. He was a bright, lime green, usually a sign that he was hungry. Grinning, she leapt on the seat and placed Wilhelm next to her while her legs swung in the air. She was going to Hogwarts, _she was going to Hogwarts._ She peeked out the window to glance at the time. Five minutes, Rapunzel grinned, and sat back into her seat as Wilhelm crawled up into her lap. She absent-mindedly stroked him as she gazed out the window.

Outside, parents crowded the platform, last minute goodbyes and forgotten books being exchanged through half-open windows. She smiled when a witch strode over and fished out three red-heads from the crowd of students. Obviously the brothers were trying to smuggle themselves onto the train, they nearly got away with it to. Rapunzel tucked her legs up on the seat, getting comfortable as the strict-looking mother scolded the three of them. The three brothers eyed the train, sulking. Rapunzel had to wonder who in their family was already on the train.

With that thought, the train began to surge forwards. Rapunzel pressed her nose against the glass, trying to peer through the sudden clouds of steam that covered the platform. She saw her parents, waving at her from the platform. She waved to them but she wasn't sure that they'd seen her.

Rapunzel jumped slightly when a small hand slapped her window from the outside. Looking down, she saw the three would-be stowaways running alongside the train. Their three red heads bobbing and weaving through the crowd, banging the windows as they went along, they eventually had to stop when the train picked up too much speed. They waved at the train as they suddenly vanished when the Express shooting through a tunnel, to emerge in an overcast day in London.

Rapunzel watched the urban grey of London go by. Her stomach was bubbling in a potent mixture of nerves and excitement. She rocked her legs from side to side as the train passed by an estate on the borders of the city. She was debating in her head whether to get a book out of her trunk, when the door to her compartment slid open.

A tall gangly girl Rapunzel's age with a mane of red bushy hair leaned into the compartment and noticed Rapunzel and her vacant seat. She pointed at the empty one. "Anyone sittin' there?"

"No."

The other girl smiled and promptly sat in the seat opposite Rapunzel. As she did, Rapunzel realized that she was already in her school robes. The red-haired girl noticed her stare. "My mum made me change befer' I got on the train. I'm Merida by the way."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Rapunzel Corona." Rapunzel held out her hand. Merida took it with a raised eyebrow at the formal greeting. "Sorry!" Squeaked Rapunzel, embarrassed at her own manners.

Both of Merida's eyebrows rose at that. "What're yeh apologizing for?"

Rapunzel blushed "I don't know." She admitted her face was now as red as Merida's hair. "Sorry." She said again, staring at the floor.

They were still shaking hands.

"Sorry!" Rapunzel let go quickly. What was wrong with her? One person and she was already tripping up over her own manners. She looked up from the floor; the other girl was smiling at her.

"Nothin's broken don't worry about it!"

Rapunzel felt a little better and in her lap, Wilhelm changed from a dark purple to a royal blue. Merida noticed and her eyes went wide. "Woah, that's really cool." She continued to stare as Wilhelm turned purple again at the praise. Rapunzel smiled, gaining more confidence.

"His name's Wilhelm. My mother gave him to me when I got my letter." That was a very proud moment for Rapunzel; she almost framed the letter on her wall.

Merida's face went a little gloomy. "My mum didn't want ter get me an animal." There was a little smirk on the corner of her mouth though, as she reached into her pocket. "She said it that I had ter focus on my studies wi'out any distractions." She pulled out a bundle of brown fur with bright black eyes and a twitching nose. The brown rat scurried up her arm to Merida's shoulder, nearly hidden by tangles of flame-red hair. She smiled at Rapunzel. "Dad helped me sneak him in though."

Merida watched the other girl waiting for a reaction. She didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed when the painfully shy girl's eyes lit up.

"Awwww! He's so _cute!"_ She had a big smile and her green eyes were shining in admiration. Merida held out her hand to Rapunzel and the rat ran up her arm to sit in Merida's palm, while Rapunzel stroked him. "Does he have a name?"

"'Course he does. 'is name is Puck." The rat in question was lazily closing his eyes and leaning into Rapunzel's touch, as if he was enjoying it. Rapunzel didn't stop stroking him, but she did eye Merida questioningly.

"Didn't the letter say that we could have an owl, a cat or a toad?"

"Yeah." Merida shrugged, "But wha' the teachers don't know can't hurt them."

Even with the nonchalant way she said it, Rapunzel suddenly felt like she was being tested. She replied carefully, "Good luck with that then."

It seemed like the right thing to say, if she was one to judge Merida's smirk at that moment. She smiled back and went back to striking Wilhelm, who was flashing a jealous red. Puck scrambled back up Merida's arm to hide on her shoulder under her tangles of red hair. Rapunzel secretly hoped that no one would ask her where the rat was; she was a terrible liar at the best of times. "So your mother doesn't know about Puck?"

"Nope, and it's goin' ter stay that way." Merida shifted a little on her seat. "I think she suspects somethin' though. Max was breathin' down my neck the moment I stepped onto the platform."

"Who's Max?"

"Prefect from Ravenclaw. He's an alright guy I s'pose." Merida shrugged, "'E's a little too close to Mum though. I recon tha' she tipped him off, or he's lookin' fer brownie points from Mum." Merida scrunched her nose at the thought. "Wouldn't put it past them actually. Either way, I'm really hopin' tha' I'm as far away from Ravenclaw as possible, Hell, I'll even give Hufflepuff a try."

Something clicked in Rapunzel's brain. The school robes, the forbidden pet, first name terms with a prefect. "Wait, is your mother a _teacher?"_

Merida's expression was strained when she looked back up at Rapunzel. "Yeah, she's the transfiguration professor and head of Ravenclaw."

"That must be cool." Rapunzel rolled the new slang around in her mouth. It felt weird.

Merida snorted, "Yeah, ye'd think that."

Rapunzel frowned in thought, absentmindedly stroking Wilhelm's lumpy back which was back to its original lime green color. "What house do you want to get into then?"

Merida grinned. "The best one," she stood up and passionately punched the air, "Gryffindor!" Puck squealed as he fell off her shoulder and onto the seat. The two of them laughed at his bewildered expression. He squeaked at them, but still climbed back onto Merida's shoulder when she sat back down.

Rapunzel was beginning to like Merida. She 'admired her moxie' as her dad would've said. She ignored the twist in her stomach, probably the first sign of homesickness. She turned to Merida determined to forget the queasy feeling the moment it reared its ugly head. "Do you know how we get sorted?"

"Nah. Mum refused to tell me. Maybe we 'ave to fight a troll!"

"But we can't use magic!"

"Even better!"

Both girls laughed, albeit a touch nervously.

"So what 'bout you?" Merida crossed her legs on the seat and rested her chin in her hands, tilting her head to the side.

"Me?"

"Yeah, what House are _you_ hopin' ter get in?"

"I don't know." Rapunzel watched Puck nestle in Merida's hair on the top of her head. "I guess Gryffindor wouldn't be too bad, but I don't think that I'll be put in there." She shrugged, "I don't think that my parents would mind where I go, they're just happy that I'm going to Hogwarts."

Merida frowned slightly, "Why, did they think ye' were a squib or somethin'?"

Rapunzel shook her head quickly. "No, nothing like that!" She squirmed in her seat, "I, uh ... They, um. They're worried that I don't make enough friends." Merida looked a little confused, Rapunzel elaborated as the countryside flew past them as a green blur in the window.

"My parents both work for the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of International Co-operation. So when I was smaller, we moved around a lot. By the time I was six I had been to about three different schools and was starting my fourth." Rapunzel shrugged, "At that point we'd moved back to London and my father had gotten a permanent position in the Ministry and we didn't need to move around anymore. But I guess, it's kind of been hard for me to fit in anywhere 'nd I think my parents are worried that I'm lonely or something."

Merida's eyes were wide and shining in admiration. Rapunzel felt her face heat up a little, after spilling her life story to a girl she barely knew. She fidgeted and rubbed the back of her head staring down into her lap.

"Woah." Merida paused, "That's a lot to take in. Gotta' admit tha' I've never even been tha' far outta Scotland before." She leaned back thoughtfully.

"What about you?"

Merida raised an eyebrow, "Me?"

"Yeah." Rapunzel crossed her arms, feeling a little more confident, "I've just told you my sad story, what's yours?"

Merida shrugged, "Ye know that my Mum's a teacher. She used to work in the Ministry; I think it was somethin' 'bout muggles. Anyway, she met Dad through her work, don't know how, since he's a muggle, an' Mum won't tell me the full story and Dad's no' allowed to tell me." Merida shrugged a shoulder as if to say, 'nothing I can do about that.' "So they got married, had me, Mum resigned from the Mins'try to teach at Hogwarts and then had my brothers." Merida reached up to stroke the sleeping Puck in his nest of hair in an unconscious imitation of Rapunzel from only moments ago.

"You have brothers?" Asked Rapunzel, who as an only child was immediately fascinated.

Merida nodded grimly, "Aye.'The Three Devils' as I like te' call them."

Rapunzel thought back a moment, "Wait, were they the boys who were running after the train?"

"Ye're asking 'cause o' the hair aren't you?"

Rapunzel blushed at Merida's deadpan. "I was just guessing ..."

"Good guess." Merida smiled, "No, really. Everyone in my family has red hair, 'cept my Mum."

There was an awkward pause that was thankfully broken by a rapping on the compartment door. Merida immediately pretended to be asleep, cushioning her head with her arms so that Puck couldn't be seen. Rapunzel slid open the door, to see a friendly smiling witch wheeling a trolley stacked with sweets and goods.

"Anything from the trolley dear?" The trolley lady asked, noting that Rapunzel was the only one to ask. But not seeing the lime-green Wilhelm hop down off the seat.

"No thank you." Smiled Rapunzel, "It all looks really good though. Did you make them yourself?" Damn, her manners were getting away from her again.

The lunch lady smiled back, "Oh no dear, just the pumpkin pasties."

Merida's stomach erupted into a loud growl. Rapunzel pretended to wince with hunger. "You know what? On second thought, could you please wait for a minute?" Rapunzel nearly tripped over her own feet making her way back to her bag neatly placed by her trunk. She rummaged around looking for her purse as the trolley lady waited patiently for the polite girl and Merida continued to pretend to be asleep.

No one noticed a lime-green toad flashing irritable shades of color as he hopped on the trolley unseen.

Least of all, Rapunzel, who was now trotting back to the trolley opening a small purse as she did. "May I have two pumpkin pasties please," she paused to look at the selection again, "and, uh two cauldron cakes as well please."

"That'll be sixteen Knuts please. Thank you. That everything dear?"

"Yes, I think so. Thank you again."

"You're welcome dear. I'll be in the hallway if you want anything else." With that, the door slid shut and the trolley trundled down the hall, unknowingly taking a little passenger along for the ride. Rapunzel returned to her seat after placing a cauldron cake and one of the pumpkin pasties on Merida's side of the compartment. The girl in question cracked open one eye as Puck crept off her head and back into her robe's pocket.

"Oooh, the teachers're goin' to _love_ you." She saw the two pastries on the seat next to her, her eyes widened. "Are those fer me?"

Rapunzel nodded, taking a bite out of her own pastry as she did so. "'Course it ith." She mumbled around a mouthful and swallowed. "You sounded like you need it." She nodded pointedly at Merida's stomach, which growled again. Loudly.

Merida gave her a broad grin, and tucked into her own small lunch. "Thanks."

"So what are your brothers like?" Rapunzel bit into her pumpkin pastie again and chewed as Merida answered.

"Well ... They're called 'lil' devils' fer a reason." Merida took a large bite out of the tart, chewed and swallowed thoughtfully as she thought. "They're triplets and are the biggest group o' pranksters ever born," she shrugged, "when they're not bein' stupid."

Rapunzel was tucking into her cauldron cake when Merida sprung her own question. "You moved 'round a lot right?"

"Yeah?" Rapunzel had to speak around a mouthful of caramel. She'd never realized how hungry she was.

"Where were ye'?"

Rapunzel paused long enough to swallow. "Mostly around central Europe, so I ended up speaking alot of German." She tucked a brown lock of hair out of her face as she thought over her time there. "I think that my mother was considering enrolling me in Beauxbatons, since I did make a few friends over there. Most of them were going to Durmstrang though, so Dad talked her out of it." She'd never called her father 'Dad' before; it felt just as weird as 'cool.'

Merida's face was scrunched in confusion. "Beaubata-wha'?"

"It's another school. I think it's in France."

"Oh. Hey Pretzel,' do you have a quidditch team?"

And so the conversation continued, Merida talking about her team, the Holyhead Harpies while Rapunzel talked about the teams in mainland Europe. Rapunzel had to admit, it was nice having someone to share with as they spoke around mouthfuls, like having a friend that wasn't a toad. She absent-mindedly reached to her lap to stroke Wilhelm.

He wasn't there.

Rapunzel had a little thrill of fear root through her stomach as she looked at her lap, then her feet, then the floor. She checked the seat next to her, then swung her head around and looked on her other side. She was her knees on the ground looking under the seat before Merida realized that something was wrong.

"And Ashley's got this brilliant corkscrew move tha' I tried ter do in the apple orchard bu'- Rapunzel?"

The brown haired girl's face turned up to Merida's, eyes wide with panic.

"Wilhelm, he's gone!"

**.o.O. **_**Author's Note**_** .O.o.**

_THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE CHAPTER!_

_So I don't quite know how the 'story alert' subscription works on this site but I have the feeling that the few people who read 'A Potteriffic AU,' (APAU) the first time were probably never told that I updated the previous chapter. What I did the last time was upload half the chapter, and then posted the other half to the chapter. So those who saw this the first time got as far as 'Hiccup and Gobber walked into the bank' before the chapter ended._

_The 'story alert' only seems to work if I post up a fresh chapter, like I'm doing now. Which in a way makes sense because I didn't update the story so much as I edited the chapter. So if you didn't see the previous chapter's update, I urge you to do so now._

_For everyone else, (heh, heh, heh) welcome to the first half of chapter two. I'm posting this because it may be a while before you see it in its completed form; and when I say a while, I mean "end of summer" while. Even then I've no idea when I'll get this up. This is happening for two reasons;_

_1) I have a very busy time ahead as this month draws to a close. I'm getting the results of a test back next week which may or may not allow me to get into college. If I get in, I'll be busy preparing for college. If not, I'll be busy looking for employment, and as much as I know you all want to see me update this story, I'd rather not do so as an unemployed school leaver. I need your support bros! (and sises!)_

_2) Yesterday I bought 'Skyrim.' I have been playing that masterpiece of a game for the past six hours. It was well into Hour Four, as Anyelse the Kajiit was wrestling spiders that I realised that I may have a bit of a problem. So my gaming addiction is affecting my motivation to sit down at a screen and type out a 'cute widdle stowy' when all I want to do is violently pummel a dragon to death, pissed off at the fact that it ate my horse ten minutes after I bought it for 1000 coins. (By the way, wierdly enough, I don't think that they have a name for the currency in Skyrim. That's a bit of an oversight isn't it?)_

_But don't panic! This doesn't mean that I'm giving up on this Fanfic. On the contrary your wonderful support via follows, favourites and reviews is giving me brilliant motivation to keep this going. Every. Single. One._

_Even you Elakayon Grimm, don't think that I didn't see what you were doing there. (Thanks for all the favourites and follows.)_

_This is simply how I've ended up working on the story. Type out one half, post it. Type out the second half, and mush the two together. Last time I did this I updated the story within a week, so who knows the same thing could happen here._

_On a final note I'd like to thank my wonderful, fantastic Beta who helped me not only to edit awkward moments out of the chapter, but also helped me with the pet names. Fire-Goddess-Raven came up with Puck's name. It is a GENIUS name and I will give a virtual cookie to anyone who can tell me why._

_Right, that's everything that I can think of a the moment. I'm going to wrap this up before the 'Author's Notes' are longer than the actual chapter._

_Until next time,_

_Anyelse_


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